


Afterparty

by odheirre



Category: Carpe Noctem, Vampire the Masquerade - Fandom, World of Darkness - Fandom
Genre: F/F, The Echo Chamber, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 17:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10836360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odheirre/pseuds/odheirre
Summary: What happens after the party, when Becca lost the fight to Janessa.





	Afterparty

It was ninety minutes after the party ended, and it was like a tornado ran through Dublin’s. No, Becca thought, a tornado literally ran through the bar. Wind and storms had flown from Felicity Lord’s fingertips, turning tables and smashing chairs against the stone walls. The fountain had toppled thirty minutes ago. Now it rested on one side, cracked and waterlogging the carpet. The staff had run for safety in the kitchen, and the servants that were forced to stay huddled in the corners. Broken glass and splinters made the air deadly. Fareman’s naked, whipped, unconscious body was in the center of the room, his head still the shape of an ass. Early in the mayhem, Becca saw a metal barstool blindside him as he fumbled around with his hooves for feet. Ironically, thought Becca, the thick skull is probably what saved his life. Becca stayed at the south side, back against the wall, dodging and slicing any objects that came close enough to do damage. The ocean’s roar in her ears drowned out the air’s howl. It felt good to wield her sword, although the heavy objects had long since been turned into scraps and kindling. She felt glass shards hit her skin, leaving no mark and causing no pain. Felicity’s countenance had changed from rage to pouting to a concentrated calm.

Then, the air got quiet, and the scraps fell to the ground. “Maelstrom,” Felicity announced. She snapped her fingers. “Come here. Everyone else, out.”

When she calls me by my sword’s name, it’s not a good sign, Becca thought. She sheathed her sword and stepped over the garbage on the floor. The servants scattered, a few to the kitchen, most outside, glamoured. It was after midnight, but there’s always the chance that a random passerby would see the bar. Felicity remained seated on her throne. Becca approached and nodded. “Yes, my lady?” Becca glanced to the kitchen doors; they were cracked open and she thought she saw a few bodies at the crack. We have an audience, she thought.

“I want to tell you a story. A poor artist manages to catch the eye of the Queen, build a carousel most marvelous. The Queen then uses it as a dowry in which I need to sign rights away to. Fine, that didn’t go as planned. I get humiliated and am not invited to the Grand Wedding, not that I would have gone anyway. Instead, I learn of a Changeling, my Changeling, that is still alive, using my power to create objects. A miracle, I thought. This could change my fortune, I thought. I maneuver it into our party, slyly make deals, and it is in my hand. Stories would be told on how the famous Maelstrom killed a vampire for the ownership of the Changeling, preventing it from being thrown into the clutches of King Lars and their shithouse of a court, and my name would be written in the sky. All you need to do is win a simple fucking contest with a fucking bloodsucker, and you fail me in the most fucking humiliating way fucking possible.”

Becca answered her rage with calm. “You know our rules. I was geased by my own word to go to the knife’s owner. You wish me to betray my word?”

“How the hell did you get geased by one of them?”

Becca wondered that herself. Usually, I approached things methodologically, she thought. Prod for defenses, try to outflank, take measured responses, don’t expend energy dodging when a quick parry works as well. And then Jen asked for information, and I offered it if she’d give me a favor in return. When Jen said “Yes,” it was like Jen bared her heart to me. Was this a trick? I was used to back and forth negotiations, and when Jen just surrendered herself, I dove in and took her offer. But, it felt like striking an unarmed person, so I gave Jen a weapon of her own, both figuratively and literally. Later, Becca thought, it was less of a negotiation and more of a handshake, a hug, a promise of more. “The vampire promised a favor.” That was the truth, Becca thought. Let Felicity believe the implications.

“So you have a string on her. Interesting. Do you have any other geases on you?”

“You know I do, my lady.”

Felicity waved her hand in dismissal. “I meant besides mine.”

Sigh. “Yes. One more to the same Kindred, same conditions.” When Jen used the knife (or, more technically, Jen handed the knife to the other vampire and she used the knife, fae live on technicalities), it was like Becca felt something rip away. Jen makes me take risks, Becca thought. And Jen didn’t abuse the privilege, so it felt...right to regift that.

“I will remember that for the future. So, what to do with a soldier that can’t win a battle. Yell it to the rooftops about her ignominious defeat? Punish her? Have her fall on her sword?”

When Becca gave the conditions of the fight, the sword circle, she knew there might be consequences. “Any of that would ruin my value to you.”

“How about I take Maelstrom away from you? What is a swordswoman without her sword? Would you use steel instead of cold iron to kill your fae foes?”

“You know what that would do to our agreement. And that sword is mine. I will go to Queen Josephine herself to protest this if you push me that far.”

“Fine. Transfer your favor the vampire owes you to me.”

“No.” Becca said this too loudly, too clearly, surprising herself. ”Again, force my hand, and I will go to the High Court. Sorry, the Grand Court now. You cannot force me to give you what is owed to me.”

Felicity grimaced at the words “Grand Court” but made no comment. Instead, she asked, “What if it is a voluntary transfer? You give me the vampire’s favor, and I release you from yours.”

“Are you making such a deal? Binding?” Becca didn’t know if she wanted Felicity to say no or yes, which would be worse.

Felicity paused, and then leaned forward in her throne. “If you transfer your favor from the vampire to me with no strings attached or other preconditions, I promise that you will not be punished for this failure, and I will treat you as befitting your station while you serve me. No more errands, no more dancing, no more humiliation. That is binding.” Becca felt the magic between the two, like a silver cord. Other connections flared up, the large geas owed to my lady, the smaller one owed to Jen, and the many that were owed to her, countless favors that she had accumulated over the years.

“That is not a release. No.”

The cord broke and disappeared. “Fine. You’re worth more to me than some bloodsucker anyway. Strip. Everything, including your sword.” Becca unbuckled her belt that held Maelstrom’s sheathe and set that aside carefully on the ground. Her leather tunic took a bit to get out of, and she set that next to her sword. The rest of her armor and clothes followed in a heap in front of her. “You say that punishing you, damaging you, lessens your value to me. True. It is like breaking a fine work of art. But, I cannot let this go unpunished.” Felicity drew out her whip from next to her throne, started uncoiling it. Becca remembered the whip scars on Fareman, deep and red. The tip of the whip had steel barbs interwoven with the leather. Felicity stood up, still a head shorter than Becca, and smiled. “Turn around.”

Becca turned, facing the wall and the wreckage. Knees bent slightly, weight centered on the balls of both feet, standing erect. Focus on Maelstrom and the ocean. *crack*. The roar of the ocean filled her ears, and the first hit landed without pain. She felt her body act like water, rippling as the whip hit the unbroken skin. “I’ve seen you fight,” Felicity said. *crack*. “I’ve seen you lay waste to armies of the Low Fae,” *crack*, “admired your skill and martial prowess.” *crack*. “How long have you trained, become one with your sword as your,” *crack*, “kind put it? When I had the opportunity to deal with you, after your,” *crack*, “unfortunate incident, I knew I had to possess you.” *crack*. “But I’m wondering if I underestimated your skill in bargaining.” *crack*. “You have proven yourself difficult, twisty, in our dealings.” Becca heard the whip tip drag against the ground, towards Felicity. The air grew cold in the bar. “But, if you can dip your toe into the world of politics, then perhaps I can return the favor by experimenting with tools of your trade.”

*crack*. The rip of cold iron flooded across Becca’s back, drying her soul and taking the ocean away. Becca swallowed a yell and dropped to her knees. She felt blood on her back. That will scar, she thought. She balled her fists and refused to cry out, steeling herself for a second hit.

Instead, she heard Felicity’s voice. “Don’t disappoint me again. Clean up this bar, as you are. When this bar is clean, you may get dressed and join me at my villa. Per our contract, I do not forbid you from your sword while you are cleaning.” Felicity coiled her whip and walked outside, the human glamour coalescing around her like fairy lights.

Becca got to her feet and sighed, “Yes, my lady.” From soldier to bodyguard to errand girl to maid. It wasn’t the first time Becca wondered if it was worth it.

The door to the kitchen slowly opened as Becca arranged her belt on her skin. It was better than nothing. Jay and Nance poked their head out, glamoured even though no humans were present, the usual dark shirts and jeans of the Dublin staff. Becca though, it must be second nature for them to be in disguise. They both stared at Becca’s naked body. “That was…” Jay said, trailing off.

Becca finished his sentence. “It was.”

“You OK?”

“I’ve had worse.” Though, never voluntarily, Becca thought, and not in a long time. “I’ll survive.”

Nance spoke. “You need anything? We have nothing that will cure cold iron, but we can help clean up at least.”

“My lady wouldn’t find your help welcome. This is my punishment to bear.”

Jay answered with a laugh. “And Leer would have our hide if he found out we didn’t help clean up the bar. As it is, he’s going to have words with Madame Felicity Lord. No one trashes Dublin’s without repercussions. If you want, you can hang out at the kitchen and we’ll take care of it.”

“If you’re willing to help me, a wet vac, bucket, and an extra broom would be very helpful. And a wine cooler if you have one.” The three of them started cleaning the bar, vacuuming the carpet and moving the debris to one side. Becca noticed that Jay and Nance kept stealing glances at her back. As Becca started dragging the fountain to the kitchen, she said, “I hope you can replace the tables.”

“We have wood elves for that,” Nance said. “Leer keeps them busy, otherwise who knows what damage they would cause. They’re nasty folk. So, the vampire that you were talking about, was that the one you met here a month ago? I thought I saw you give her something.”

“The same.” Becca smiled. “I meant to ask, what did you do to her friend?”

“Oh, that one.” Nance laughed. “I’ve dealt with the Kindred enough to know their type. That one was all fine and dandy, the clan of Toreador as they call themselves, so they tend to get a bit entranced by...pretty things. And I wasn’t entrancing enough apparently, so I gave him something else to focus on. There was a second one, but she had the decency to keep to herself. I thought you and your paramour wanted to conduct your affairs somewhat privately.”

Becca felt herself blush a bit, the room grow warm. “She’s not...it’s not like that. She was a warrior from an unknown camp, and I felt it prudent to gather information about her.”

“Right. I’d say you could visit her now, but in your current state of dress, one or both of you may get a bit too eager to gather information.” Nance kicked the unmoving body of Fareman. “So, what do we do with this one? And what did a human do to piss off Madame Lord that much? She is vicious with that whip.”

Becca was glad to focus on Fareman. He probably wouldn’t wake until the morning, but he’d survive. “My lady will probably come back for him. He was one of the ones who prevented the wedding from being completed. She needed someone else to blame, so he took the brunt of it. I’m sure my lady hasn’t tired of punishing him.” She looked at his hands and feet, turned into hooves. “And he’s not going anywhere with that form. Can’t even open a door.”

“Got to hand it to Madame Lord, she knows the classic curses, and she does them with style. He going to be like that forever? Head of an ass and all that?”

“Unless my lady changes him back. And I don’t see that happening.”

“OK. Leer is going to be pissed about all this, but that’s between them, and the Grand Court festivities probably left him in a good mood. And it's not the first time someone hasn’t slept it off in back.” They dragged his body to the back room and continued vacuuming and sweeping and scrubbing the bar, and four hours later, it was in some semblance of order. As Becca started dressing, Nance asked, “You need anything else?”

Becca looked at her tunic. Her shirt stung as it touched her back; the armor would be worse. “If you have a tub of water, that would help.”

“Yeah, in the kitchen, I’ll set one up.” Both Jay and Nance left as Becca finished getting dressed, buckling her belt over her clothes. She decided to not wear her armor. When Becca stepped into the kitchen, it was just Jay. “Nance went to report to Leer, and all of Madame Lord’s servants bugged out. Time for me to close up. This all you need?”

She lifted her armor. “Could you store this somewhere? I’ll pick it up later today.”

“I'd be honored. Anything else?”

“No. Thanks.” Becca set the armor aside and stepped inside the water. She felt her body dissolve, merge with the water, feeling the essence of her element, feeling at peace. To my lady’s villa as promised, Becca thought. But first, I need to get a weapon. My sword is not enough. “To my brother-in-arms, the Undine captain.” He’ll have a weapon I need, she thought, and I can bargain with him for it. She used cold iron against me, so I will use politics against her.

**Author's Note:**

> This is canon, and Nance and Jay would have told characters this story to anyone who asks.


End file.
